C L O V E R F I E L D  F I L E
by SagurnLeRamenCountry
Summary: They don't know what IT is. But, they do know IT is destructive and indestructable. Her country can't kill IT alone. What's worse is that IT is moving. Fast. Rusfem!Ame Prufem!Can and other genflip parings. Possible character death.


**Hey everybody! This is SagurnLeRamenCountry's first story here on Fanfiction, but I've had stories on Lunaescense (that is probably spelled wrong.) This story, a Hetalia/Cloverfield crossover, is for one of the awesomest people here on FanFiction, ColdWarTakeover! Let's all clap~! She's writing a story for me, and I'm writing a story for her. Simple as that~! Disclaimer time~**

**England: Sagurn does not own Hetalia or Cloverfield. It's that bloody simple.**

**Sagurn: Calm down. ^whispering^ Psst~ He's just angry 'cause he's not in the story yet~ Anyway, this story's gonna get much more… serious, as it progresses. Oh, and it's going to be a little more different~ And it's genflip. Genflip people are: America, Canada, Romano, Finland, Greece, and… more. Now read, lovelies~**

Chapter One

"Happy Birthday, Canada!" Afrena F. Jones, known to most as the personified form of the country of America, grinned broadly before slapping her younger sister on the back. "I hope you're enjoying the party!"

"T-thanks, America…" Madeline Williams, the personified form of the country of Canada, stuttered, trying to ignore the pain in her back from the obviously-not-on-purpose hard hit. America flashed one more of her show-stopping grins before fading of into the waves of people.

It was Canada's birthday, July 1st, and America had basically begged to have the party in her favorite city, New York. Canada had said that she didn't want a big party, maybe with just them and a few friends, but not a lot of people.

However, America being America, she had to invite every single person she and Canada knew, plus with a few they don't really know.

Which is why the penthouse America had rented just for this occasion was jam-packed with tons of people, most of them countries or the bosses of the countries.

"Feliz Cumpleaños, Canadá!" Spain walked over, his smile undeniably cheerful. He gave the timid country a giant hug, kissing her on the cheeks before holding her at arm's length to examine her. "You've grown so big!" Canada's cheeks turned red.

"Thank you…" From behind Spain, another girl came out, this on with a small frown on her face.

"Let go of her, idiot…" Romana hit Spain on the back of his head, obviously causing him pain, "Don't you see that she wants you to let go of her?"

"Mi tomita…" he whined, holding his head, "What was that for?" Romana hit him again, her eye twitching and her frown deepening.

"Don't call me that, bastard!" Canada smiled again, sighing at the two. It was obvious that those two had a 'thing' going on, especially with Spain always trying to kiss her in public, but she'd push him away and whisper something to him.

"Thanks for coming to my party, you guys," Canada said, trying to stop Romana from hitting the poor Spaniard. Of course, the man instantly grinned, emerald eyes sparkling.

"You're welcome, Canadá! Mi tomita is too~!"

"Don't speak for me, bastard!" Canada sighed, rubbing the back of her head as Romana yelled at Spain some more before he started tickling her, only getting her angrier.

As Romana and Spain walked away, Spain still getting abused by Romana, America came back, having gone who-knows-where.

"Canada! You've met Spain and Romana! I invited someone for you! It's—"

"Hello, Kanada, Amerika!" The latter country stopped in the middle of her sentence, turning to who had spoken from behind her.

"Ah," Canada smiled, trying to hide the fact that this certain person had come to speak to her at the wrong time. "Hello, Russia."

America narrowed her eyes, swiveling on her heels. "What are you doing here?" Russia's ever-present smile was in place, eyes closed. "Get out."

"Da, but Amerika," he said, "I was invited." America shook her head, turning to her sister.

"Canada," America growled, "I didn't invite him here." The younger nation sighed, patting her sister on the back.

"I invited him, America." Russia's smile widened slightly as he openly mocked America with his eyes.

"That being said," He bent down slightly, eyes narrowed, "I wouldn't kick out people at a party that wasn't even mine," he grinned, "_Amerika_." Said country gritted her teeth, clenching her fist at the obvious point the Russian made.

"Fine," she said, "Just go over there somewhere." She pointed into a dark corner of the room, her eyes matching her scowl. "And don't say my name in that damn accent of yours." Canada bit her lip, wanting to say something to stop the two bickering countries, but couldn't.

"I'm sorry, _A-mer-i-ka_," He pronounced each syllable individually on purpose, looking her dead in the eyes, "But that, I can't do for you. Maybe you should ask your citizens!" His eyes glinted. "They seem very willing." America's teeth grit again at Russia's obvious sarcasm.

"You know what—" Canada quickly thought of something to keep her sister from fighting Russia, grabbing a piece of cake.

"Hey, America, you should try this cake!" Canada put the cake in her sister's mouth, effectively stopping the oncoming rant. America chewed slowly, her eyes still on Russia for only seconds more.

"Hey, this cake is really good, Canada!" At first, the Northern-American country thought that she had actually evaded the fight, but… "Too bad, since bastards can't taste anything," America's blue eyes swung to the tall nation beside her, "…Russia can't eat it." [1]

The anger that Russia felt at that moment was painfully noticeable to anyone who looked in at the conversation, but he was obviously trying to mask it behind a smile. "Amerika, it's not nice for such young countries like you to be throwing around insults at countries older than you," He bent down again, eyes half lidded dangerously in insinuation. "You might get hurt, da?"

Before America could utter a word of rebuttal, the whole building shook violently, the lights flickering off. Words of confusion and question were the only things that came out of people's mouths as the lights flickered back on, everyone huddling together.

"What… was that?" America walked passed Russia (effectively pushing him out of the way), grabbing the remote for the TV.

_"An oil tanker just capsized near the Statue of Liberty…"_

Everyone at seeming the same time furrowed there eyebrow. Why would it create such a shake then? America, understanding the frustration, pointed towards a door to the roof.

"We can go look at what happened up there, you guys!" She opened the door, climbing the steps up to the top of the building. As everyone filed out, tons of pairs of eyes scanned the darkened horizon.

Spain was the first to speak up. "Hmm, seems like it was nothing, right—" A gigantic explosion ruptured downtown Manhattan, the explosion over half a skyscraper tall and hugely visible more than almost ten miles away. Debris the size of TVs were hurled from the explosion, hitting parts of the roof.

Chaos erupted, people started screaming and running down the stairs, into the streets.

America didn't know what was happening.

Nor, did she realize that she was not going to want to find out.

**A/N : Tee hee~ That's the first chapter. Did you guys like it? Hate it? Want it to be massacred by the Cloverfield monster? Did you like it so far, ColdWarTakeover? Tell me what you guys think~ The next chapter will be out next Wednesday~ I promise it'll be longer~**

**[1] It has to do with this very very very very old American saying that nobody's probably heard of that has to do with people who act like bastards not being able to taste anything because they are such bad people and... yeah. Sorry if that confused you.**


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